I'm Only This Way In the Moonlight
by potterwoman
Summary: It's my version of the Swan Princess. Essie is the daughter of the widowed tailor. William is the almost-ex-prince of the kingdom of Bastian. Hazel is an evil woman who is trying to ruin the tailor's life by turning his daughter into a swan...
1. Plotting a Ball, Plotting a Death

In the town of Bastian, old grandmothers tell the tale of a cursed young woman. All the children listen attentively, and all the adults laugh at the absurdity of it all. After all, it is impossible for a maiden to be swan by day and human by night.  
The story consists of two main characters: Essie, the tailor's daughter, and William, the prince. Both are unhappy in many ways, the grandmothers say. Essie longs for a life of adventure, and William wishes to be free from all royal duties.  
After explaining the characters' situations, the old women begin the actual story.  
  
In the kingdom of Bastian, all was peaceful in the morning. Of course, all was peaceful all day, everyday. A young lady named Essence awoke and stepped lightly from her bed. She was always up before her father, preparing the shop for customers and getting fabric ready.  
Essence pulled her dress over her head and un-braided her dark red hair, leaving it to fall gracefully past her shoulders and to her waist.  
She left her small room and headed down the narrow staircase, bending her neck to avoid the low ceiling. At the bottom of the stairway, she opened a wooden door and headed into the store. It was quiet in the still morning light, sending a chill down Essence's back. She made some racket to loosen things up, then unlocked the shop door and pulled out some fabrics. The brightest ones she laid out near the window, the other ones sat on the counter, displaying their gorgeous patterns or flawless colors.  
After she felt the store was ready for the daily customers, Essence went out the door and headed down the cobble street to the bakery, where she hoped to find a good croissant for breakfast. As she passed the butcher's she noticed some men hurrying the opposite way on the other side of the street.  
"Good morning!" she called.  
"Mornin', miss!" one of them called, boasting a large gun.  
"Where are you off to this fine day?" she asked.  
"Hunting! First day of good weather. Should be able to bring in a few good deer, shan't we?" The men got too far away for talk, so Essence didn't reply.  
As she continued down the street, Essence saw Hazel, an old woman who owned a fruit stand, bent over picking up produce. Essence hurriedly crossed the street to help her.  
"I'm sorry, Hazel," she said, "I couldn't help but notice that--" Hazel stood up and faced Essence. The mole on the side of her face stood out and her gray eyes squinted. Her hair was in a wispy cloud around her face as she said, "You couldn't help but notice? Those boys with guns didn't notice! They just knocked over my fruit stand and kept running. The mongrels. . . ." And she kept picking up fruit.  
"Here, let me help you." Essence doubled over and began replacing the fruit onto the stand until Hazel hit her over the head with an apple.  
"Get away from here, child! I can help myself!" Hazel began muttering and pushed Essence away.  
Essence backed off from the crazy woman and crossed the street to the bakery. The baker, Kenneth, was standing outside.  
"Ah, Essie, yer late, lassie," he said.  
"I know," Essie said, following Kenneth into the shop. "I stopped to help Old Woman Hazel pick up her fruit, but she pushed me away." Kenneth was large, not just from food, but from muscle. He had very little hair on his head, and what was there was dark brown. Her turned his sweet blue eyes on Essie after setting down a tray of hot rolls. "Pay no attention to that lunatic, ye wee lamb." He inhaled deeply. "Now, what can I get fer ye today?" Essie laughed slightly at Kenneth's remark about the lunatic, then began browsing at the delicious food. "They all look so good, Kenneth," she said, eying a pastry. "Hmm. I think I'll take some croissants, a bagel or two, and some of those pastries in the window." "That it is, Essie." Kenneth gathered up her items and told her the charge. As Essie pulled some coins from her bag, Kenneth said, "I have news from the palace." Essie set the coins on the counter, breathing the sweet smell of the shop, and looked intently at Kenneth. "What news do you have?" "This mornin', I was takin' some bread to the royal kitchen, and some of the cooks were sayin' that Prince William II wants to deny the crown." Kenneth nodded vigorously.  
"Deny the crown?!" Essie exclaimed. "He can't do that! Can he?" "What say ye, lass? Yer word is the same as mine." Kenneth took a bite of a roll. "Actually, me thinkest the prince is just scared of ruling, now that his father is ill." "Well, I think he just wants to have fun," said Essie.  
"You'll say that to anything, dearie," Kenneth said. "All ye want to do is have fun and adventure. Not everyone is like ye." "I know, but . . ." at this, she trailed off and sighed. "I have to be getting back to my father's store. I'll see you tomorrow." Kenneth nodded and Essie left the shop, entering the bright sunlight. Hazel had gone inside her house, which was just behind her stand, and was peering out the window, gazing at Essie. Essie smiled and waved at her, but Hazel just folded her arms and glared.  
Hazel had lived in that house longer than anyone could remember. She was the oldest citizen in the kingdom, and hated to hear anyone state this to her. She was rumored to be Merlin's great-granddaughter, but that had never been confirmed. People called her "crazy old witch," enough for anyone to believe it. She was a bitter woman, and no one knew why. Not even Hazel herself.  
  
William threw back the curtains on his canopy. He jumped off the bed and pulled the cord for his servants. A moment later, Charles, his right-hand man, entered.  
"Ah! Charles," said William. "Good lad. I'm awake now, and as soon as I'm dressed, I would like a word with my mother, the queen." Charles bowed to show acknowledgment. "Yes, Will. When would you like your breakfast?" William waved this question away, saying, "Oh, anytime, Charles. Anytime at all. I'll just have it before I talk to my mother." "May I inquire as to what you'll be saying to your mother this morning?" Charles asked.  
"I'm going to talk to her about the crown. I'm nearer to becoming king, you know, and I don't want to rule. You may keep this a secret, please." "Yes," Charles said. "I heard something to that extent in the kitchen--" William nodded for Charles to be dismissed, and Charles left.  
When William had dressed, he left his chamber and headed to the dining room. It was deserted, so he would have breakfast by himself. The instant he sat down, a maid brought in pastries and bacon, oatmeal and milk. William ate quickly, then went to find his mother.  
On the way out to the garden, William ran into his little sister, Amilia.  
"You are in my way, Willy!" she exclaimed in her high voice. "Why are you hurrying?" "To talk to mother," he said, rushed.  
"About what?" "Nothing that a twelve year old would understand, Amilia." "Well I'm coming with you." Amilia had long hair that she refused to let her servants brush, so it was a mess every morning until her mother got to it. Presently, her hair hung down in tangled chaos. Her dark hair color matched her brother's in every way, but her face was small and immature, with a stubby nose and freckles. As for William, his face was broad, with an easy grin and green eyes.  
"No, you're not," he said. "Go get your hair brushed, Amilia." Amilia stamped her foot. "No! I hate my hair being brushed. I want to ride horses." "No," William said simply. He left Amilia in her tantrum state and resumed his way to the garden. Indeed, when he arrived, his mother was sitting on a stone bench, reading poems. "Having a leisurely morning, Mother?" William asked.  
"Oh, of course, with the night I had last night!" Queen Anne had woken up to her husband suffering severely from his illness, and had stayed the night up to be at his side every moment of his pain.  
"You deserve it, Mother," said William.  
Queen Anne set her book down regally, which was how she did everything. Elegant and regal, that's what she was. "All right, Will, what is it that you want?" Will sighed and sat down next to his mother. "I'm troubled by Father's illness." "You don't want to be king, do you?" said Queen Anne.  
Will shook his head. "Of course not," said his mother. "Neither did your father when he was your age. All he wanted to do was sail the world until he fell of the edge. But of course, his father, King Daniel II, wouldn't let him be a measly sailor." "I don't want to be a sailor or a king!" cried Will.  
"What is it that you want to do enough to give up service to your kingdom?" "I don't know," said Will. "I just want to be out of here, explore the countryside, hunt with the other men!" Queen Anne scoffed. "Hunting is not for men of your stature, my dear." "Men of my stature?!" roared Will. "That's all I hear all day! 'Men of your stature,' 'You are royalty, dearest,' 'Yes, Your Highness,' and so forth!" The queen was taken aback. "Will, I had no idea you felt that way!" she said.  
Will folded his arms. "Well, I do." "To change the subject," said Queen Anne, "we have found you a bride." "What!?" Will grabbed his mother's hand and held it in his. "You found me a bride? Do I not have a choice? Can I not find my own wife?" "Oh, but William!" said Queen Anne. "It's a princess, and we do want to keep royalty in the family, do we not?" "I don't even know this blasted princess!" "Yes you do," Queen Anne said simply. "You met her at her sister's wedding." "Who is her sister?" "Princess Marie." "Blast!" said Will. "Are you talking about that royal idiot, Princess Giselle?" "She's not an idiot," said the queen, "she's actually very bright once you get to know her." As Queen Anne said this, a servant brought out a silver tray with tea and sandwiches on it. "Oh, look! Finally, the tea I wanted." "Mother, let's not talk about tea!" Will moaned. "We're talking about my future!" "You'll learn to love Giselle," said Queen Anne.  
"No, I won't!" argued Will. "And if I don't, then I'll kill my wife, just like King Henry VIII!" "Oh!" wailed Queen Anne. "Please, Will, do not talk about such vulgar things like that in my presence. I'm eating sandwiches!" "Mother, did you choose your husband?" "No, actually, he chose me," said Queen Anne, recovering from her slight faint.  
"And you two are happy, am I not right?" "We were very happy until your father was stricken with that disease!" Will had a smug look on his face. "Then I have no choice but to conclude that for my happiness, I should choose my bride." Queen Anne sighed. "All right, Will," she said. "You may choose your bride." As Will started to celebrate his victory in the argument, Queen Anne interrupted, "If you choose her at a royal ball." "A royal ball?" "Yes." Queen Anne explained, "Your father met me at a royal ball. It wasn't just a royal ball, it was a royal festival for the birth of his brother. All the royal families from all the kingdoms were invited, and so were the nobility of Bastian. As you may know, I was a duke's daughter, so naturally, I went. And I met him." "But mother," protested Will, "I don't just want nobility, I want everyone in the kingdom! It would be very boring if just nobility came. There's not that much nobility, you know. I wouldn't find a bride there!" Queen Anne thought for a minute. "All right, William, but if it's ruined because of the peasants, you're to blame!" "All right, mother!" Will kissed his mother's hand and began to run. "I'll go tell father!"  
  
Essie was sweeping out her room when her father called her. "Essence! Come down here, I have something to show you!" Essie obeyed, setting down the broom and stepping down the stairs. She especially watched her head on the low ceiling because of the bump that Hazel had given her with the fruit three days prior. She entered the store to see her father and two other people in the room.  
One of the people was a regular customer. Mella, the wife of the butcher, who had thirteen children, was always coming in for clothes and repairs. Essie had only seen the other person once before. It was one of the royal messengers, and the last time he had come was to announce that the king was afflicted with an ailment.  
"Hello, Mella," said Essie. She nodded to the messenger and looked questioningly at her father.  
"You'll post it then," said the messenger. Essie's father nodded, and the messenger left the shop.  
"I'm supposed to post this in the window," Dulmont, Essie's father, said. He was balding at the back of his head, and his hair was already gray. The worry lines on his face stood out whenever he was interrupted, which was presently. Ever since his wife had died three years before, the worry lines stuck out even more. He handed the parchment to Essie, and she read through it.  
"A ball? For Prince William II?" She set the invitation in the window pane and made sure it stayed. "Let's see. In five days? No, Father, I can't go. That's the very day I leave to get more cloth." "Oh, Essie, I'll go!" said Dulmont. "You go and have fun at the ball." "How will I get there? You'll have the horse!" Essie shook her head. "No, I'll get the cloth. You can stay here and watch the ball. You might meet a beautiful lady and fall in love." Mella, who was watching this conversation, said, "No one in my family is going, of course. You may borrow our wagon." "If you're all right with that," Essie said.  
"Of course!" exclaimed Mella. "I'll have Lloyd bring it to you." "Thank you!" called Essie as Mella left the store.  
Dulmont held out his hands. "You see? All settled. And you said you wouldn't go." Essie embraced her father. "Thank you!" she said. "I've never met the prince, and I've never done anything like this! It will be an adventure." "Essie, everything is an adventure to you."  
  
Hazel looked through her window at the messenger. He was just leaving the tailor's shop down the street. The tailor was an evil man. Very evil. He had stolen from Hazel's fruit stand as a child and never apologized. Therefore, Hazel had to kill his wife. Being a witch made everyone think she had died of an illness. The same "illness" that was taking the king.  
The king was also an evil man. His family had held a ball twenty years past and had refused to let Hazel come because she was not nobility. Well, she had been, until King William (as a boy, of course) told lies about her and made her lose her title.  
The tailor's daughter was evil, too. She had pretended to help Hazel with her fruit stand, but Hazel saw through her. Hazel knew she was trying to steal fruit. Everyone was. But that girl was the only one that was coming close to really doing it. What was that girl's name? thought Hazel. Oh, that's right. Essence.  
Hazel remembered when the tailor's wife was with child. She was so happy, alerting every person on the street. When she told Hazel, Hazel had said, "I don't care." So the tailor's wife had gotten mad and said, "You mean old witch! You should care!" and she had stormed off in the direction of the tailor's shop. And that was another reason the tailor's wife died.  
Hazel suddenly had an epiphany. Killing the tailor's wife wasn't enough to get back at the tailor. It was simply to get back at the wife. But she could kill the daughter, and then the evil daughter would be gone and the tailor would shut himself up.  
But oh! thought Hazel. If I keep her from him, he'll think she's gone, then he'll die of a broken heart, then I'll send the child back, and she'll die of a broken heart. None of it would have been my fault!  
Having a human as a pet would be hard work, and she would call to her father. No, Hazel needed to go to her cottage in the woods and keep the human there. But the child could run away.  
An animal. Hazel could turn her into an animal! That way, if the child ran back to her father, he wouldn't recognize her. Hazel's plan was excellent, but it needed work. So, she lay in be that night, planning revenge on the tailor and his daughter. 


	2. I Just Ran Into the Prince Literally

!#$&!#$&!#$&hi. im actually updating. i wrote chapter one a year and a half ago, didn't post it till---psh, who knows when, and then rewrote chapter two. i know this may seem a little out of character for both essie and william, but people do strrrange things when they meet certain people. therefore, please dont yell at me for this. i do enjoy reviews a lot. a heck of a lot. so please, feel free to comment on my story.!#$&!#$&!#$&

CHAPTER TWO

The following morning, Essie left her father's shop a little bit earlier than usual. She wanted to walk up to the castle after buying some pastries from Kenneth. She didn't want to deprive him of her help for too long, though, so she thought she would just take a stroll to see the castle and imagine it in all its ball glory.  
She walked down her cobbled street and watched as the first people were waking up and opening their stores: book shops, blacksmiths, bakeries, the butcher's shop. All curtains were being drawn away from the windows, making the cramped buildings seem like they were opening their eyes from a good night's sleep. Essie felt happy and bright and cheerful to be here, in this town, where everyone—aside from Hazel—was friendly to each other. She wanted to wave hello at each house, especially the one winking at her with one curtain closed.  
Essie arrived at Kenneth's bakery all too soon, not even noticing as she passed Hazel's house that the fruit stand was not there that morning. She pushed open the bakery door and heard the little bell tingle, welcoming the scent of fresh bread and frosting.  
Kenneth's head poked out of his kitchen, where he had been preparing some muffins for that morning's sales. "Essie, lass!" he called. "Yer early!" "I know," said Essie, leaning on the sturdy counter. "I fancied a walk to the castle this morning, so I left a bit sooner than expected." "Did ya hear 'bout th' ball?" asked Kenneth, coming out from his kitchen with a delightful-smelling batch of muffins. He motioned towards the front of the bakery with his elbow, and Essie recognized the sign in the window.  
"Yes, my father got one of those too, for his window." Kenneth put the muffins on a shelf behind the counter and covered them with a towel adorned with daisies. "Thought ye would run into th' prince by goin' up to there? Or did ye want t' choose yer dress accordin' to the color o' th' castle?" "Oh, Kenneth," sighed Essie. "I've never been to a ball, and I don't think they've ever held one here before. I just want to see the castle and think about how magnificent it's going to look with it completely decorated, with a hundred carriages in the front, with footmen standing here and there, waiting to let a beautiful young woman out of a silver carriage, a duchess or a princess or a lady. Someone just right for the prince." Essie left the bakery shortly thereafter, having acquired two cinnamon rolls upon realizing how quickly time was flying past her misty eyes. She licked the frosting off her fingers as she walked up a particularly steep hill, taking the shortcuts through the town. Passing Mella's house, she waved at eight of the thirteen children—one of which ran out to give her a recently picked dandelion.  
Fifteen minutes later, she arrived at the castle's enormous gates. She stared up in awe as the rising sun reflected off the polished metal and sparkled into her rich blue eyes. The gates alone were poetic enough to fill her with wonder at the lives of royalty.  
Beyond the gates was the castle itself. It sat there, nestled between perfectly trimmed fir trees and beautifully pruned rose bushes, beckoning Essie to find some way to slip into it, unnoticed, and explore all the passageways behind tapestries and the long, winding stairs to each of the four towers.  
Essie noticed some gardeners pushing wheelbarrows and carrying rakes across the perfectly manicured grounds, and wondered if there was some sort of worker's entrance into the castle grounds. No guards were on duty for her to beg into giving her entrance, which meant that no one would notice if she walked around the outer wall, looking for a way to get in. Just to touch the castle—just to pluck a fat bud off a rosebush, just to look up and see the handsome prince watching the sunrise from a sculpted balcony. She couldn't wait five days. By then, everyone else would be there. Every other woman or girl or lady would be sharing in the castle's glory. Everyone else would get to marvel at the vast front hall or the golden ballroom. It wouldn't be special to Essie; it would be crowded. She wanted to explore for herself, now.  
The outer wall of the castle was chiseled granite, hard and cold and gray. Essie ran her hand along the cracks between the slabs, hoping that her delicate fingers would catch a door.  
The sun was getting higher and higher as Essie wandered around the wall. She began to walk faster and faster, telling herself that she must get home to help her father with the store, but she must also see the castle alone, from the inside. Soon enough she was running, running around a corner, running into— "Oof!" The sound was emitted from both her, and the person she just made very close friends with. Then the sound of pain as the two felt where their heads had met in a hard crack, then a thump as they both hit the ground.  
Essie lay there, groaning a bit. She had received most of the blow, being the smaller person and thus received the bigger pain. The sun was high enough for her to see it from where she lay on the weeds outside the wall, but suddenly it was blocked out by a head. The head of her new acquaintance.  
He was very handsome, she had to admit, as he helped her up. She brushed off her dress and shook her red hair out of her eyes, wondering if this new being was nobility or not. He had dark hair and green eyes, and he looked quite puzzled at her appearance. Hers was shabby compared to his; he had brown knickers and boots on, with a white shirt and a blue vest, all very well-kept. She was wearing an appropriate dress for her station—a working dress, with powder from the bakery still on it.  
"I'm sorry," Essie finally said. The silence now was awkward. Both the man and Essie realized that they hadn't even noticed, while they looked at one another, that nothing had been said.  
"No, it was my fault. I should not have left the grounds this way. Forgive me." This new man bowed gentlemanly, and Essie was impressed. No man in town, not even Kenneth, was this graceful, this . . . noble.  
Essie bowed to him. "You obviously are royalty or some sort of nobility, sir. I apologize for not seeing this before. I shouldn't have been running around the wall---" "Yes," said the man. "What are you doing here, anyway? Do you work in the kitchens, perhaps, and fancied a run through town?" "Oh, no," said Essie. "I'm the tailor's daughter, Essence. I came to see the castle before the ball. I'm coming, you know." "Ah, yes, the ball." The man sighed. "Things are a little hectic here at the castle. You don't want to be here right now, madam, trust me. I know I don't." Essie couldn't help but notice the way he had called her madam. No one ever called her that. She was referred to as miss or girl, but never madam. She also noticed how he had not returned her introduction. She had clearly stated that she was Essence, the daughter of the tailor, but he had not said his name. He had not said, "It is good to meet you, Essence. I am Alexander, Duke Orson's second-eldest son" or "I'm the princes cousin, Edmond." She was quite disappointed at this.  
"Well," said she, "I hope the bump on your head isn't as bad as the one on mine. I must return to my father's shop. He needs my help." "Allow me to escort you," said the man. "It's so stuffy inside, and I need something to do." He offered her his arm. She was a bit reluctant to take it, as she did not know his name, but caved in the end and placed her small hand on his arm.  
The words "who are you" were on the tip of Essie's tongue. She had just to get them out, but couldn't manage. It seemed impolite and acting above her station to her. Perhaps he just didn't want to tell her who he was, afraid that she would spread it around town that "Edmond, the prince's cousin, walked me home today!" However, if that was what he feared, it was in vain that he did not tell her his name. After all, he was walking her through public streets right to her very own house.  
After a bit of walking in silence, Essie threw caution to the wind and said, "May I ask who is gracing me with his presence?" "Ah," said the man. "You caught me. I was hoping you wouldn't ask. But now that you have, I cannot deny you my name when you have been so polite to me." He cleared his throat and bowed again. "I am Prince William." "Oh," said a shocked Essie. "I had no idea." Her face changed shades rapidly, matching her hair. "I'm so sorry for running into you. I—I shouldn't have been there." "Yes," said the prince regretfully. "This is why I didn't want to tell you. You would treat me like this, become a bumbling idiot, and not be able to control your mind for several minutes, perhaps the extent of our entire friendly meeting. It happens every time." He continued to walk, not offering Essie his arm or waving her to walk with him. She was so appalled at what he just said, she could only stand there for a second until his words fully sunk in.  
"Excuse me," she said, trotting to catch up with him. "Excuse me, but did you just call me a bumbling idiot?" "Yes, because that's exactly what you turned into the minute I told you I was the prince." Said William, not even caring that Essie was offended.  
"I beg to differ, your highness," said Essie, keeping up with the prince's lengthy strides.  
"Oh?" said William, turning to face her. He stopped walking. "You become more sorry that you nearly gave me a concussion when you discover I am going to be king, you can't even get the words out of your mouth properly, and you disagree that you are not a bumbling idiot?" "I say that you are the bumbling idiot, Prince William, and I don't mean any offense," said Essie boldly. "You are the one who just insulted one of your subjects who was meaning to give respect but not knowing how because she's never met anyone higher than a peasant. You are the one who is sneaking out of the castle because you cannot stand the preparations for a ball meant to find you a wife. Perhaps the reason you need a ball, highness, to find you a wife is because every girl you come across who is not in formal attire, you insult immediately. And I? I'm not quite so sure I want to come to this bride-finding ball anymore, even if I wasn't expecting to meet you. No person that insults me can be worth supporting." With that, Essie walked away.

yup. that's the chapter. hoped you enjoyed it thoroughly. i know where im going with this one, im pretty sure... man i havent done fanfiction in forever.  
REVIEW PLEEEEEASE have a great day. 


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